


The Back-Up Plan

by Th3Alchemist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Harmione, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Th3Alchemist/pseuds/Th3Alchemist
Summary: Harry wont leave the attic room at Grimmauld Place following the attack on Arthur Weasley. Dumbledore calls in the only person Harry will open up to. And if he wont? Well, she'll just have to use her back up plan.Submitted as part of the HMS Harmony Discord Server's Christmas With Harmony collection.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 132
Collections: Christmas With Harmony 2020





	The Back-Up Plan

“Will you open up please, Harry? I know you’re in there.”

Harry yanked open the door in genuine surprise. “What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were skiing in Andorra?”

“I was,” Hermione replied briskly, stepping into Harry’s attic room and shaking off her thick coat. Buckbeak stopped his pawing a moment to look up at the newcomer. “Dumbledore came to fetch me. Said you needed me.”

Harry goggled at her. She still had snow in her hair and her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold.

“Did … did you come straight up here?” Harry asked. He was tempted to pick a snow fleck from Hermione’s curly locks, but he pulled his hand back sharply.

“Of course,” Hermione replied brightly. “Like I said, Dumbledore told me you needed me. So here I am. I brought you a Christmas tree, as I was sure you wouldn’t have one up here.”

Hermione hitched a playful grin onto her face and reached into her pocket. She took out a large pine cone and offered it eagerly to Harry.

“It needs a bauble or two, maybe a star for the top … but I think it’ll Christmas Tree-up quite nicely!”

“Hermione …”

“Dont worry, I’ll help you decorate it. Do you have any tinsel up here? Any streamers?”

“ _Hermione!_ Please! Stop being silly.”

Hermione crossed the room to him purposefully, taking each of his forearms in one of her hands. She stood close, so close that Harry could see her pupils dilating.

“No, _you_ stop being silly!” Hermione insisted bossily. “Dumbledore told me what happened to Mr Weasley, and that you think you’re responsible. But you’re _not_. He doesn’t think you are, and neither do I. So stop this. Right now.”

Harry felt such a sheer rush of affection for Hermione that it threatened his balance a moment. What had he done to deserve her unwavering support? Not just in this, but in _everything_?

“But it felt so _real_ ,” Harry moaned, turning his eyes down. “I felt like I _was_ the snake …”

“But you weren’t, that would be impossible,” Hermione pointed out sensibly. “For one, you aren’t an Animagus. And second, you cant Apparate out of Hogwarts. It says so in -”

“ _Hogwarts: A History_ ,” Harry completed for her with a small grin. It felt like his first one in _ages_. It lifted his mood immeasurably. “I remember you saying!”

“There we go then,” Hermione reassured him simply. “So, no matter what has happened, _you_ didn’t do it, okay? You aren’t responsible.”

Harry closed his eyes and took a heaving breath, letting his guilt go with the exhale. He felt a million times better already. He didn’t think that Hermione could have brought him a better Christmas present than herself and her calming influence. But that got him thinking.

“Hermione … your parents!” Harry yelped.

“What about them?”

“Well, wont they miss you? It’s Christmas, after all. And I’ve taken you away from them … _again_.”

Hermione blushed prettily. “Oh, Harry, they are quite used to _that_. Besides, once Dumbledore turned up and said you needed me they knew nothing would stop me from getting here to you.”

Harry swallowed hard as he listened. He was aware of how loudly his heart was pounding. He wondered if Hermione would hear. Maybe she could explain why it was doing that …

“But, Hermione … why _did_ Dumbledore come to you? How did he know it was _you_ I needed?”

Hermione edged an inch closer and turned her eyes down nervously. Quick as a flash, her tongue darted out and moistened her lips, or had Harry just imagined that? His mouth went oddly dry at the thought.

“He’s a funny man, Dumbledore,” Hermione began in a hushed voice. “He, more or less, knows everything that’s going on. He knew you wouldn’t open up to the Weasleys. But he also knew that if _I_ came, you’d let me get close.”

Harry blinked and tried to bring his ragged breathing under control. Hermione slid closer still, as if to illustrate her point. Harry was powerless to stop her, or the rapid tattoo that his heart was beating out beneath his ribcage.

“A-and if he’d been wrong?” Harry murmured.

“He knew he wouldn’t be,” Hermione breathed, her voice low and snow-soft. “And he wasn’t ... was he?”

With subtle, cautious movements, Hermione moved Harry’s forearms down to her waist. She still wasn’t looking at him. But she stepped closer again, so that wild strands of her hair were now tickling his cheek. When his forearms reached Hermione’s waist, Harry's hands opened up involuntarily to hold her at the hips. It would have been all sorts of wrong if they _hadn’t_.

Harry felt a thrill of excited terror. _What was happening?_

“I did have a back-up plan, though,” Hermione went on quietly. “In case I needed something _extreme_ to distract you.”

She was speaking so breathily that tingly goosebumps erupted over ever inch of Harry’s skin. He shivered deliciously.

“W-what was it?” Harry managed to stutter out.

Hermione’s hands snaked nervously up Harry’s elbows, his upper arms, around his shoulders, brushing like an electric shock against the exposed skin of his throat, finally linking at the nape of his neck. She leaned in, intimately close, to whisper in his ear.

“I brought you your Christmas present,” she breathed softly, causing Harry to tremble from head to toe.

“What is it?”

Harry found he was speaking in whispers, too.

“Close your eyes.”

He did.

“Keep them closed. No peeking.”

He obeyed. He was totally in her power.

“Ready?”

Harry nodded.

Then he felt her moist, cloud-soft lips press delicately to his own. He gasped in his throat, shivered with the shock of pleasure, and felt Hermione waiting … patiently, _hopefully_. He tightened his grip on her waist, drawing her body to flush to his, deepening the kiss. She responded in kind, pulling his neck down and angling her head, opening her mouth as the heat between them became palpably dense.

Then they drew apart, breathlessly, clutching at the cool air needed to refill their lungs. Eyes closed, foreheads pressed together, his hands on her hips, hers playing with the triangle of hair at the base of his neck.

“T-that was your back-up plan?!” Harry smirked breathily.

“No, Harry, that was our first kiss, the only thing _I_ wanted from you for Christmas,” Hermione smiled back beautifully. “But a back-up plan is as good an excuse as any, for me to finally get what I want. Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, indeed!” Harry laughed.

He squeezed Hermione with as much affection as he could manage, then kicked shut the door to the attic room. They had a lot to discuss and maybe, if they stopped kissing long enough, they might actually get round to decorating that pine cone … 


End file.
